For a while, there, She Who Must Be Obeyed and I were real Iron Chef addicts.
There’s something about that dopey Japanese cooking show that is at once riotously funny and (dare I say it?) envy-inducing. Who wouldn’t want to be turned loose on a pile of truffles and foie gras to wreak whatever havoc came to mind?
The riotously funny part comes, of course, from the combination of (1) the Very. Serious. and Tendentious. atmosphere surrounding Chairman Kaga and Kitchen Stadium, and (2) the dopey dubbing of 99% of the dialogue into Extremely Perky Californian. Kaga, in his ornate Chairman robes, looks like a Japanese version of Liberace on acid, and his trademark “Pepper Bite” at the opening of each show is completely over the top.
The panel of judges is a riot as well. There’s always a Young Japanese Ingenue, who provides unintentional humor when the judging process begins:
“The Krispy Kreme Doughnut stuffed with Lobster and Beluga Caviar is like a little orgasm in my mouth!”
And there’s the Ponderous Theme Music that plays over the judging, snarfed directly out of the soundtrack to Backdraft. Really.
But what I’d give a kidney to see would be a new Iron Chef taking his (or her) place alongside Iron Chef Japanese, Iron Chef Italian, Iron Chef French, and Iron Chef Chinese.
Iron Chef Jewish.
I know some of the ingredients might be problematic, but think of the possibilities. And even without a Jewish Iron Chef, creative Secret Ingredient choices could be oh, so entertaining:
The secret ingredient is...kishka!
Tip o’ th’ Elisson fedora to Mir at Woulda Shoulda Coulda for planting the idea for this post in my perfervid brain.